A/N: Hi guys, closing off two story arcs and characters so I can breathe fresh air into this fic.

FYI - Kandahar is in Afghanistan, a reference to Operation Rhino. I started this fic when the M word was Marriage, now it seems to be Manhood, who knows what it'll be next? Still collecting M Words by the way :)

Thanks for reading!

As always, enjoy x

Chapter 65: Morgan

Sunday 12th March 2017, 2.36pm, Heartland General Hospital, Manhattan Island

It was only when the drugs wore off, and Baby Girl Morgan was placed in the NICU with an endotracheal tube down her windpipe, that Zoe realised what she had done. Her mother was thousands of miles away on the West Coast, the pink teddy bear was a gift from a nurse rather than a close friend, and the only way she could touch her was with a finger through a hole in the incubator. Calista wasn't around to answer her calls and the latest update on CaliGirl98Degrees' Instagram page was a picture of Big Sean on the mainstage at Myrtle Beach with the hashtags #turnup and #moves. Arjen's stock response to the news was an administrative Congratulations and Best Wishes email that read like their encounter; straight to the point. Her only visitor wore a fedora and a three-piece suit and asked the dreaded question, "So what are your plans?"

Zoe stared into space, because she didn't have any.

4.42pm, Sentara Garden Park, Sentara Norfolk General Hospital, Norfolk, Virginia

Neither father nor son had much of an appetite even though their stomachs said otherwise. The park bench was uneven but anything was better than staying inside that building. So many unspoken things and thoughts hung over their heads like a dark cloud. Paul doubted if he was up to the task of dealing with his father without losing his mind or his freedom. Taylor wondered how things got this bad, and why it seemed things were so hard to make any better when they got worse so easily. Zahra. Brock. Jeremy. "What're you gonna do about Jeremy?" Taylor asked, because he was the nearest.

Paul rubbed his forehead and felt a headache coming on. "I don't know. One minute, I wanna snap a neck and the next, I wanna take a knee. Sorry 'bout the house, Tay."

"Why? You didn't do it." Taylor said matter-of-factly.

"I brought you into this mess. And that's why you're the way you are."

"I don't get it."

Paul couldn't explain what he knew was true. "It's inside of you. You gotta break up with Zahra."

Taylor was taken aback because his dad usually took a passive advisory stance on his relationships. "Wh…what? How?"

"I don't like what she's bringing out in you. And you don't like it either." Taylor wasn't used to being called out. Except when Bella did it but that was different. "It's stopped being fun, huh?" Taylor couldn't argue. "'Cause it's a mission. You try to save 'em, but you can't. So you keep on trying and it just gets harder. Know where I learned that?"

"Susan?"

He shook his head. "Kandahar. Look, I'm not saying run from Zahra back to Bella. Just…chill."

Taylor thought about it. "'Cause girls aint nothin' but trouble?"

"'Cause some girls are the wrong kind of trouble, Tay. The kind you lose yourself in."

"Is that they hate Ma? I mean, I've seen a lot of people hate Ma 'cause she's a cop…or a witness…or a rat, but Aunt Leanne and Jeremy hate her in a different kinda way."

Paul rubbed his left eye because of what the brief encounters were exposing his son to and what he was old enough to see for himself. These were the times Joss would take over, finish the conversation on his behalf, fill in the gaps. But she cut him off months ago and nature abhorred a vacuum. It never occurred to Paul before her absence how wide the gap she filled was and how heavy the burden felt. "I guess it started on the football field. You know, I started playing 'cause I was chunky and Jeremy thought I was soft." They locked eyes because Taylor didn't know that. He just thought he liked the sport. Joss' eyes of compassion shone through her son, like they did back then, without judgement. "It was nothing special 'til Junior High, Coach said I had talent and if I wanted I could go Pro one day. And that was music to Jeremy's ears."

"Ma said you were good at Defence."

"Nah, I was just good at taking hits." Silence met the double entendre. A pigeon pecked at a half-eaten sandwich. "So that's when everything changed. He started showing up to all my games, talking about me to his friends on the job, pushing me; all because of football."

"Why?" Taylor asked, because it didn't compute with the relationship he knew them to have.

"'Cause he was fattening me up for slaughter, Taylor. That's how I got into Milton. Football scholarship. You should've seen his face, bragging, even threw a party; it was all about the NFL. Payday. The cash cow."

"College cattle." He repeated Zahra's phrase.

"Pretty much. When I met Joss, she asked if I was just a dumb jock."

He'd never heard this part of their love story. "And what'd you say?"

"I'm not dumb." Taylor nodded with respect. "She jimmied the lock and broke me out, Tay. And I started to think about what I wanted to do, I wanted to use my head, to serve my country…and I wanted to marry her. Quick."

"So that's why they hate Ma."

He shook his head. "I was supposed to get 'em all out of Norfolk, like Keith on Good Times. He broke his leg at the wed-"

There were so many TVLand marathons at home, Taylor got the reference right away. "I remember, Dad."

He smiled. "They blame her for that. For changing me…cutting the puppet strings."

"Then why didn't you say something to Aunt Leanne?"

He couldn't justify why he didn't defend Joss back then, or even the night before. "Because…I can't."

"Why not?" Taylor asked, because it wasn't good enough.

"I can't do it. 'Cause they're right."

"About Ma?"

"About me. I left. I ran. And never came back. Not like I was before."

Taylor kinda-sorta understood and that was the best it would get. "D'you think Jeremy burned down the house?"

"Sometimes. And if he did he'll get his, Tay. I'm not tryna go to jail."

"I wanna say goodbye." Taylor announced.

"Why?"

"I got a feeling I won't see him again."

"Fair enough." Paul tried to lighten the mood, because it was a long drive back to New York and an even longer walk back to Jeremy's room. "Did I ever tell you about the time we kicked Winston-Salem's ass all the way back to North Carolina? Bobcats turned Rams to Clams," He recalled the headline from the student newspaper.

About ten times. "No, what happened?"